


Remembrance

by EstaJay



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hetalia Fusion, Ed is dead for like five seconds but gets brought back to life - he's also Amestris, Gen, crossposted and backdated from FFN
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-22
Updated: 2014-01-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:01:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28382913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EstaJay/pseuds/EstaJay
Summary: Long ago, Amestris gave up his memories for a normal life. Now, Xerxes has been tasked by Truth to remind Amestris of who he is. But when the most efficient way is a bullet through the heart, how will things turn out?
Kudos: 1





	1. Rememberance

**Author's Note:**

> 28/12/2020: oh the point of view choices of bapy me XD there's a little story behind this fic - I wrote it on one of my high school's computers during free period and I was about half way through before the thing crashed on me. I hadn't saved so I resigned myself to rewriting the whole thing but when I logged onto the same computer the next day, I found the file had been autosaved. Lesson learned. 
> 
> Original fic: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10046031/1/Rememberance

_I always knew I was different. Most the people I met grew from babies to elders in a matter of decades while I stayed the same centuries. Those I met who were like me called themselves 'embodiments', 'countries' or 'nations' and sometimes 'personifications'. They were all freakishly tall and always pushed me around. I didn't like them and they didn't like me, it was a mutual hatred._

_My past is all a hazy mist lost memories. The earliest thing I remember is being found by a man who called himself Father, everything before that is a blur. Father said that he'll make me the greatest nation in the world. There was something familiar about him that made me feel safe and wanted to stay by his side while at the same time there was a forbearing feeling telling me to stay as far as I can from the man. There was nowhere else I could go so I stayed with him._

_Father gave me a name: the Unitary State of Amestris, or simply Amestris for short. He taught me the science of alchemy and Equivalent Exchange, its most important law. It took me weeks to memorise the periodic table of elements and twice as long to perform my first transmutation. Father was proud that I learnt alchemy so fast though I still think I took too long. Father was happy so I was happy too._

_I remember the first 'war' I was in. It was with the city-state Riviere, a man who was extremely freakishly tall and never liked me. There was lots of blood and death and my body wouldn't stop hurting for years after the war. Riviere was also the first embodiment I killed. I still remember my blade piercing my western neighbour through his heart. Father said it was necessary sacrifice, I said it was bloody murder. That day, a blood crest carved itself onto my left palm._

_As the years went by, I went into more wars with my neighbours. It still hurt but I no longer felt any emotions from them. I never aged as I watched my people die, whether from old age, sickness or war, though it was mostly war. I killed more personifications and my territory expanded. More people were slaughtered and more blood crests were carved onto my body. I also met Father's 'children' and my 'foster-siblings': First was Pride then Sloth, followed Greed and Envy then Lust and Gluttony. They were like me and not like me at the same time. I didn't like them and they didn't like me, we hated but tolerated each other._

_A couple centuries later, Wrath was born. He was different from his 'siblings'; he aged at a more humane pace and looked more human than the others. Wrath soon became Führer, my boss, under the name King Bradley. He married a nice lady and adopted Pride, now Selim, as his son. I found that amusing since Pride was actually his older 'brother'. Lust had wacked me over the head for laughing too much._

_After Drachma nearly breached my northern borders, Wrath made one of my hairs stand up like an antennae, he called it the Northern Wall of Briggs and said that it will keep Drachma from invading. It worked, though I could never understand how a strand hair kept out an attacking nation._

_Under Wrath's rule, there was more wars, more massacres. I was fighting against everyone around me; sometimes I even fought against myself. I was sick of all the pointless violence. I wanted it to end, I wanted out_ _and there was only one way._

_Entering Truth's domain was easy, just perform a little bit of transmutation on yourself, getting out is the problem. The annoying bastard of an embodiment that lives there won't let anyone out or do anything without being given something of equal value. Equivalent exchange, of course._

_Apparently, I wasn't the first embodiment who came to Truth looking for a way 'out'. Other personifications have made deals with Truth in the past for a break from current political issues, some multiple times. In exchange for my memories and status as an embodiment, Truth will give me a normal life as a human and that when I 'die', all my memories will be returned. I was a bit suspicious but the tricky bastard could never lie as it went against his entire being and existence._

_Seeing it as my only way out of this life of war and slaughter, I accepted._

* * *

"Long time, no see."

I turned to see a white figure with a large toothy grin planted on its face. I had only been for several minutes after waking up from a world of throbbing pain and knew it was a matter of time before I bumped into the lone resident of this endless expanse of white: Truth.

"Four hundred years is a long time." I nodded. "Especially if you have your soul ripped in two then used as a battery of immortality by a piece of shit in a flask."

Truth ever-smiling sadistic face frowned. "That annoying _Spec_ has been dealt with and punished accordingly." The familiar but ever so annoying smile once again graced its face. "Do you know why you're here?"

It was quite obvious why I was here. My people have all moved on when the last of the stone was used up, my cities now lay in ruins and my land had been swallowed up by the desert. I no longer had an anchor to this world. "My time's up." No one knew what happened to our kind when we finally passed on but I was ready for whatever Truth threw my way…

"Wrong."

Though I wasn't ready for that.

Truth just kept on smirking with that damn annoying smile. "Why would your time be up when you still have an anchor?"

I stared at Truth for a while. How could that be possible? An embodiment can't exist without something to embody, an 'anchor'. I had only heard something like that occur once before on the 'other side'. A country that was dissolved at the end of some sort of big war (what was his name again… Persia? Russia?) still had its embodiment alive and kicking. How that is possible? No one has a clue.

Since I had no idea how I could still be anchored to the world, I asked the bastard-that-could-never-lie. "How the hell is that possible?"

"Just look inside yourself and answer your own question." Truth answered with a grin.

Doing exactly that, I found something that was quite surprising. All embodiments of nations could always feel what was happening to their people, economy and land in the back of their mind. I could still feel the wind and heat of the desert, the emptiness of the ruins but most importantly, my people. They were all chattering about, some happy, others sad and most bored. I had the Philosopher's Stone with the Xerxesian people inside me. It was exactly like before the ritual when I was still a proper and thriving country except the voices were slightly louder. They all felt at home because I _was_ their home. The people made up who I am and I made up the people. All is one and one is all.

"Looks like I'm going to have to head back."

Truth nodded and a portal back to 'reality' opened up behind me. "Do me a favour and wake up your brother for me, Xerxes. It's about time he remembered who he truly was."

I paused for a moment. 'Waking up' my brother meant ending his humanity or in other words, 'killing' him. I really didn't want to do it but it was necessary, and it was better me than someone who has some beef against him.

"Will do." I muttered as I walked through the portal. Why did Truth always have send me off with a bunch of weights on my shoulders?

* * *

Edward smiled as he walked back to his apartment along with his younger brother, Alphonse, and childhood friend, Winry, both who had come to Central to visit.

It had been several months since the 'Promised Day' and has started a new chapter in their lives. Al had finally gotten his body back and was studying alkahestry in Xing under May. Winry continued her apprenticeship in Rush Valley and was now one of the top mechanics in the entire town.

With the help of their loyal subordinates, both Roy and Ling had reached the top of their respective ladders. Thanks to a Philosopher's stone, the Yao heir had been confirmed as the next Xingese Emperor. Roy had finally reached his goal and had become the Führer of Amestris, though was beginning to regret it after seeing all the paperwork he was assigned. At least he had Hawkeye to keep him in line at gun point.

Despite having lost his alchemic abilities, Ed still worked for the military. He had left his position as a State Alchemist and re-joined as a normal soldier. His teacher's teachings had stuck firm to him. 'To train the mind, you must first train the body', and so he did, keeping in top physical condition and sharpening his mind. The former Fullmetal alchemist rose quickly in the ranks of the military and was once again a major.

Al gave Winry a shy smile and the automail mechanic smiled back. They then both blushed and turned away but still held each other's hand tightly. Ed smirked at the scene. His brother was obviously in love with their best friend and vice versa but they were both too shy to admit it. All that was needed was a little push, a bit of courage, and some real magic (not that he believed in magic) would happen.

A distant click instantly caught Ed's attention. His time as a normal military officer had sharpened his wits beyond what they were when he was a State Alchemist. Ed turned a figure in a beige cloak with a long range gun in his hands on top of a nearby building, and was aiming directly at them.

Ed's eyes widened. "GET DOWN!" he yelled as he pushed Al and Winry to the ground.

His two companions turned to him, their eyes demanding an explanation, just as a bullet shot through his heart.

* * *

When Ed regained consciousness, he was no longer on the streets on Central with Al and Winry. Instead, he was surrounded by the white nothingness of Truth's Domain.

"Hello Mr Al-che-mist." And there was the bastard now.

The embodiment of Truth still looked the same since Ed last saw him: an eyeless white silhouette of a child with an annoying wide grin. Its left leg was flesh and blood: the price Ed paid when he broke on of alchemy's laws.

Every time Ed had come here in the past, he knew it was temporary and he'd soon be back to his brother and friends. But this time around, he hadn't come here by an alchemic circle but by his own death. There was no turning back now.

"Your brother is as quick as ever in fulfilling my requests." Truth said. "It's barely been a day since I sent him back to your world and he's already woken you up."

_Wait, what?_

"What do you mean, bastard?" Ed snarled at the white being. "How does fuckin' shooting some through the heart considered 'waking up' and what the hell does this have to do with Al?"

Truth shot the alchemist one of his famous 'I-know-something-you-don't-know' smiles. "Your dear little pretend-brother is not part of this, though your _true_ older brother is. Besides, a piece of lead through the chest is no more than a little flick to your kind."

Ed was thoroughly confused. Al was the only brother he ever had and was definitely not pretend. The only way that he had another brother was if his bastard father sired another bastard and he was certain that a bullet to the heart did _not_ equal a flick. Ed finally came to a conclusion. "You're lying." He accused.

"You charge the embodiment of Truth of _lying_." Its voice filled with mock shock and hurt only fuelled Ed's rage. "That is something beyond my being, completely out of my range. Besides…" Truth's annoying smile once again graced its face. "… I never lie."

Ed was just about ready to slap that damned grin right of Truth's face. "Then explain."

"Why explain when you can figure out yourself when I return something that I've been holding for you." Truth said with a smirk before gesturing to the Gate. "Just go through and all will be revealed."

With his anger dampened and himself completely confused, Ed walked through the Gate because anything was better than another second with that annoying bastard, Truth.

* * *

During his entire military career, Roy Mustang had seen many different types of murderers but none like this one.

First off, the man had shot down Edward and then came down from where he shot him down and starting acting as if he had just knocked the shorty unconscious. The man didn't attack Alphonse or Winry, who were with Edward at the time, or do anything except dodge when the pair started hurling wrenches and trasumutated spears at him. He didn't even resist the military personnel or try to escape when they came to arrest him, just slung Fullmetal's lifeless body over his shoulder and followed the officers quietly back to Central Command.

Now the man was sitting in his office casually chatting with Riza about the progression of long-ranged artillery while Edward's body lay sprawled out on the couch as if he was simply sleeping. Winry had calmed down slightly and was now quietly watching over the body while Alphonse was glaring daggers at his brother's murderer.

Mustang sighed, why again did he have to be the one to deal with this? Sure, he felt angry at the man for killing one of his subordinates for no apparent reason but his self-control had grown since the Promised Day and the murderer was safe from being burnt to crisp… for now. Though he wondered why he was the one dealing with the case when it could done by someone of a lower rank; he was the Führer for crying out loud!

"What's your name?" Roy asked the man. He was quite surprised at how calm he was being with the situation, maybe becoming the head of the military had desensitised him a bit.

The man ended his conversation with Hawkeye and turned to face him. Roy noted how much he looked like Fullmetal; a slightly older, _taller_ Fullmetal. He was also paler, had less muscle and his hair was more of a silvery-gold than a golden blond and shorter though was still long enough to be tied back into a ponytail.

"The Kingdom of Xerxes." He answered causally.

The two alchemists, mechanic and sniper stared at him; jaws dropped, eyes wide and completely flabbergasted.

"That's not possible!" Winry exclaimed. "A person can't be an entire nation, especially one that doesn't exist anymore."

"I'm not lying." 'Xerxes' said. "Whenever a group of people unite themselves under one flag and call themselves a country we just… appear. Our kind embodies the hopes, dreams and ideals of the people. Our growth is irregular and once we reach our prime, we stay that way until the fall of our nation. Don't ask why we exist or where we came from, we have as much as an idea as you do."

The former nation them paused and took in a deep breath. "As to why I still exist… as alchemists, you are familiar with the term 'all is one and one is all', correct?"

They all nodded: it was the most famous and well known philosophy.

"Most people interpret this phase as 'I am the world and the world is me', as in we are a small part of a big world. Embodiments make this more literal. Our soul is comprised of the people who see themselves as a certain nationality, whether it be Amestrian or Ishvalan or Xerxesian. When there is no one alive or no 'idea' of a national unity, we 'die', but if there is someone deep down in their soul who still identifies themselves by what we embody, we can survive. Weaker, yes, but still alive."

"But that doesn't explain anything." Winry said.

"Yes it does." Roy muttered. "What thing is made up of many souls?"

Only one thing came to mind: the Philosopher's Stone.

The embodiment gave a world-weary smile. "I may still call myself the Kingdom of Xerxes though the Philosopher's Stone of Xerxes would be a more accurate name."

Alphonse was the first to recover from the shock of all the new information that had been thrown at them. The ideal of national personifications seemed so impossible and farfetched but was, in a way, plausible. He then returned to glaring at Xerxes. "What does this all have to do with you murdering my brother?" he scowled.

"The boy you know as Edward Elric is in fact the embodiment of this very country: the Unitary State of Amestris..." Xerxes answered. _'… and_ my _younger brother.'_ He mentally added.

"But how can Edward be an… embodiment… like you?" Riza asked. The nation's tale sounded fishy and she didn't quite trust him yet.

'… _and why is this quickly turning into a game of 20 questions?'_ Xerxes thought to himself before answering. "Sometimes when a nation feels disconnected from their people, they become one of the people. They entrust their memories to a strong and trustworthy embodiment, generally Truth or Magic, and become a human, only to become a personification again when they 'die' and have their memories returned. We generally call this a wakeup call. I've never had to do it but Amestris was going through some tough times about two decades ago and needed a break."

"Prove it."

A distant cracking sound their attention. They all turned to see Ed's automail leg cracking and falling apart, as if something was trying to get out. Xerxes produced a scabbard from somewhere and quickly lopped off the metal limb.

"My automail." Winry whispered. Her cry would have been louder and soon followed by a wrench assault if it weren't for Ed's leg regrowing itself right in front of their eyes.

Unlike homunculi regeneration, which had their body healing almost instantly in a pixel-like format, Ed's leg slowly reconstructed itself cell by cell. First came the bones which were then wrapped in nerves and blood vessels followed by lean muscles and finally a coat of pale skin. If Ed had still been conscious (or alive), he would be kicking and screaming as the regeneration seemed to defy alchemy's most important law: equivalent exchange.

"What's happening?"

Xerxes gave a cheeky smile. "Amestris is finally remembering who he is. A nation's memories, history, are its most treasured possession, second only to our people. These are the two things along with culture is what makes a nation."

* * *

He remembered.

His head throbbed from having his memories restored and he felt as if he had just been hit by a tsunami, but he remembered. Though there were a few gaps here and there, he had remembered almost everything. His time under the wing of the Dwarf in the Flask were the clearest, he now remembered the time before that; before Xerxes had disappeared.

But though he remembered his past and history, he didn't forget the memories he made in the past two decades: his 'break time' from being a nation.

He was the Unitary State of Amestris.

But he was also Edward Elric.

* * *

Amestris once again found himself in front of Truth and the Gate.

He smirked. "I'm only going to say this once so listen well, you tricky bastard." The nation's smirked softened into a smile. "Thank you for keeping my memories safe."

Truth returned the smile his fellow embodiment. "You're welcome, though there is one more thing I have to return to you."

A second Gate appeared behind Amestris it was similar to the first except for one important detail: it was _his_ Gate, the source of his alchemy and, by the looks of it, his ticket back to 'reality'. Amestris smile grew wider. Truth may an annoying bastard with an equally annoying damned grin, it did had its decent moments.

"Until we meet again, Mr A-mes-tris." Were Truth's parting words.

* * *

When he returned to consciousness, Amestris found himself lying on a couch in the Führer's office. Crowded around him with their eyes wide with disbelief were Al, Winry, Hawkeye and the Führer-bastard himself.

"Ed… you're alive." Winry muttered, tears welling up in her eyes.

"Big brother!" Al cried as he tackled his revived older sibling. In was times like this that Ed was glad his brother was flesh and blood and not a fifty-something kilogram vintage armour.

Hawkeye remained rooted to her spot while Mustang began muttering things under his breath. Amestris turned to see Xerxes sitting next to him, his arms crossed with a scabbard in one hand, his automail leg in the other and a Truth-worthy smirk planted across his face.

"Xerxes." He stated, his voice even and emotionless.

"Amestris." The older (former) nation replied in an identical tone.

Al had removed himself from his brother and Winry wiped the tears from her eyes. Everyone's attention was set on the two personifications.

Edward took in a deep breath. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO THAT FOR?!" he yelled with a volume equal to one of his 'who are you calling short, you *beep*?' rants. "COULDN'T YOU HAVE FOUND A MORE SUTLE WAS TO 'WAKE ME UP'?!"

"Unless you wanted me to perform Human Trasmutation on you; then no, there wasn't another way."

Ed immediately calmed down and began muttering apologies. Mustang was surprised at how Xerxes had dealt with Fullmetal's temper tantrum. The former nation had kept his voice calm and neutral during the situation while he would have insulted him and added more fuel to the pipsqueak's rage.

"So what this man has been telling us is true?" Winry asked. "Are you really the embodiment of Amestris?" Even though she had seen him wake up when he had no pule and his leg grow back right in front of her eyes, the mechanic was still sceptical and was sure everyone else, except Xerxes, agreed with her.

Ed sighed then answered, "Look into my eyes and tell me what you see."

They did just that and peered into his golden orbs and were immediately overtaken by familiar images: the strength and cold of the Northern Wall, the hustle and bustle of Rush Valley and the pastures of Resembool. There was also a feeling of unity, national pride and… home. Something warm and familiar. Something that made Amestris… well, Amestris.

There was no doubt in them no. No matter how impossible it seemed, Edward Elric was Amestris. He was their country; their home. The one they fought wars for and protected. He was their pride, family and everything else that they connected to their nation.

The looks on their faces said it all and Ed didn't wait for an answer to continue talking. "I may be some sort of immortal-homunculus-thing but that doesn't change who I am. I'm still Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist."

"But you can't perform alchemy." Mustang pointed out.

Ed smirked and one clap later, the couch had a slightly thinner frame and a new pair of grotesque horns. "Truth may be a bastard but he does have a nicer side to it." Though something lingered in the back of his mind, Truth never did something unless something of equal value was given or lost. Equivalent Exchange. So what was the equivalence for the return of his alchemy?

"What does an embodiment do?" Hawkeye questioned. "What's their place in government? What's their job?"

The sniper's pulled then resubmerged Amestris from his thoughts. "Well, when I was under that Homunculus-bastard, he kept me locked up most the time under Central. I only ever went out during war where the bastard expected me to kill the opposing embodiment." Remembering his time under 'Father' was something he'd rather avoid, but he had to face his past if he were to move on towards the future. "Before that, when I was still a city-state, all I ever did was attend some town meetings and I fell asleep during most of them. I actually spent most my early days at Xerxes's place rather than my own lands. But then again, during that time, I physically looked around three or four at the time so they treated me as such."

"That doesn't give us much information about what a personification is meant to do." Mustang said before turning to Xerxes and asked, "What did you do as a nation?"

"Got drunk, played pranks and babysitting." The former nation joked but at Hawkeye's stern gaze and a click of a gun, he said seriously, "I generally dealt with foreign relations and alliances with other countries. While to normal people an international alliance is a bunch of politics, to us, the embodiments of the nations themselves, is a friendship or, in more extreme cases, a marriage. So it's generally easier for an alliance to be made between personifications rather than politicians.

"I also was one of the king's advisors. Since we embody the people rather than the government, we can tell our bosses the people's needs and interests and how certain things would affect the population. Though that doesn't mean they always listen." Xerxes remembered that he told his last king to stop his quest for immortality and that the Speck in the Flask wasn't to be trusted but he didn't listen and look where they were now: their land in ruins and the population a little red rock.

"So in other words… I can have the pipsqueak 'help' me with my paperwork." Mustang concluded. "Not that he's tall enough to reach the top of the stack."

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING-?!"

Ed burst into another short rant while everyone else started laughing. Though he was now the immortal personification of Amestris, he still was and always will be Edward Elric.


	2. Omake: Marukaite Chikyuu – Amestris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 28/12/2020: are omakes even a thing in this modern day and age?

Oi oi Hohenheim, don't you dare give me milk!

Ne ne Mother, ne ne Mother,

Never will I forget the taste of the stew

That you made long ago…

Draw a circle, there's the world!

Draw a circle, there's the world!

Draw a circle, there's the world!

I am Amestris!

Draw a circle, there's the world!

Round and spherical, that's the world!

Is it really the world?

I am Amestris!

Aah, with just a stroke of a paintbrush,

A wonderful world can be seen.

Travelling across the land

Is exhausting!

("No matter what they say, I'm not short.

Everyone else is just freakishly tall!)

Draw a circle, there's the world!

Draw a circle, there's the world!

Draw a circle, there's the world!

I am Amestris!

Draw a circle, comprehend!

Draw a circle, deconstruct!

Draw a circle, reconstruct!

I am Amestris!

Aah, alchemy

Is a complex science.

("It's not magic!)

Its power comes from

The tectonic plates!

Hey hey Al, put that cat back!

Sorry, Winry, I didn't mean to break it!

Oi oi Mustang, you're a bastard!

Um… Hawkeye…

*Click* (Gulp!)

Oi oi Hohenheim… why did you leave?

Ne ne Mother, ne ne Mother,

All Al and I wanted was

To see you smile again…

Alchemy's important law:

Equivalent Exchange!

Draw a circle, don't forget…

Draw a circle, I won't forget…

Never will I ever forget…

I am Amestris!

Aah, my mistake

Is something I'll never forget.

As long as I'm alive

I'll set things right!

Aah, my memories

Are full of pain and joy.

Forever, will I carry

These scars of the past.


	3. Hohenhiem and Xerxes (unfinished)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 28/12/2020: so found my old usb where all these FFN fics are stored and found some unfinished things for this fic in particular. I have no intention of completing them so I'll just drop them in their current state in here.

_Acquaintance – Hohenheim’s encounters with Xerxes_

Boy stood still as the man roughly pulled at his limbs. His forearms were squeezed and eyes pulled open for closer inspection. It was intrusive and annoying but nothing new. The man was a customer and he was simply inspecting the stall goods, which just happened to be young boys.

Boy knew he was in good shape. His merchant made sure that he and all the others were in good shape. Being fed three full meals a day, kept in respectable physical condition and even taught some basic tasks such as wash sheets and sweeping, all done to make them profitable merchandise...whatever that was.

The man, a customer and his potential master, pulled at his mouth. Boy's cheeks stretched uncomfortably and too many fingers were shoved in. He wanted to bite down on the intruding appendages but that would lower his chances of being sold and earn him a hiding later.

Finally the fingers left and Boy shifted his jaw to keep himself from gaping. Hopefully that was the end of this inspection. There wasn't much else to check unless he were to disrobe.

The man stands back, his fingers on his chin with a thoughtful expression across his face. His merchant was to the side, rubbing his hands eagerly waiting for the decision that would rid him of Boy, who had long overstayed his shelf life. Boy was eager to be sold too, he had spent too long here.

"Like what you see?" His merchant asked.

"The boy has good form." The man said, his fingers tightening over his chin. "Healthy, well-built..."

"And you'll find he's exceptionally skilled! This boy is adaptable, a quick learner. You can have him work the fields at sunrise then cook a banquet meal followed by some lovely entertainment...he could do it all in a day with energy to spare!"

Boy knew his merchant was exaggerating his skills but they made him sound smart. He couldn't help puffing his chest a little at the praise. He was smart, the smartest of his batch. (The only one left in his batch.)

"That does sound impressive." The man said. Both Boy and his merchant held their breaths. This could be the one. "But what is he, nearly twelve summers? I saw his wisdom teeth sprouting and stubble under his chin. I don't need an unruly teen under my roof." Boy couldn't help but glare at the man. "And that look in his eyes. So defiant. This boy will be a troublemaker I assure you. You’re better off selling him to a mine or brothel, at least you could make your money back."

Anger flashed in his merchant's eyes before quickly fading. "Ah yes. True, true. This one is older stock but come this way. There are fresher ones, only have turned five summers..."

His merchant led the man off to one of the younger ones, Boy's existence completely forgotten. He released his breath. There was definitely a hiding waiting for him at nightfall.

When Boy had first been put on sale, there were complains that he was too young and small. Next season, he didn't have enough skills for his age. Now they were complaining he was too old.

Boy resisted the urge to buckle but...this had been the twenty-second one. How many more until his merchant sold him to the undesirables?

Out of the corner of his eye, Boy saw the man glance at one of the others. The shrimp was half his age and could barely talk but almost instantly the man and his merchant were shaking hands. There was no intrusive inspection, no snide comments. Just one look and the shrimp was sold.

He clenched his fists. This wasn't fair. It was first in, first out. That was why Boy was at the forefront of the stall. To catch attention, to be sold. If he couldn't find a master, what was he supposed to do?

The sun was low in the sky, the business day was ending. Stalls around them were closing up. There were only a handful of people left wandering the streets but it was unlikely that any of them would come here. Slaves tailed after their masters, arms and backs loaded with packages. Boy recognised some and he was sure some others did the same. No one turned an eye, though, and Boy remained firm and stiff. Recognition was of no use.

The collar around his neck started to weigh him down and the fatigue from the desert heat was finally reaching him. Boy had several more hours before the stall closed. Stand tall and proud or maybe small and meek. Whatever would get him sold.

Boy didn't know anymore.

"Hello there."

Boy straightened, startled. Customers never talked to stock. About stock, yes, but never to one like an equal. He kept his eyes fixed to the ground. What was he to do? This was an odd situation, one that shouldn't be possible.

But Boy looked up, meeting customer number twenty-three in the eyes. Eyes were the window to the soul. He had been told many times his eyes were too wild, troublesome, arrogant. 

"You've got a spark."

This man was of average height, average age, the same length of gold hair as most other men and skin not too pale and not too tan. He was the perfect picture of a Xerxian citizen but his eyes suggested something older, wisdom of centuries and a familiarity that Boy couldn't shake.

“Hello kind sir!” His merchant said, approaching the man. He lacked his normal enthusiasm though. “Looking for a new slave? Come this way, we have fresher younger stock this way.”

Boy resisted the urge to wilt. There was no offer pertaining to him, just one to lead the customer away. His merchant had given up on him.

But the man winked at him, _winked at him,_ and turned to his merchant. “No, I think this one will do just fine.” He said, pulling at his coin pouch. “How much is he?”

Both Boy and his merchant were shocked. “Are you sure you want this one?” His merchant asked. “He’s several seasons old and-”

“I’ll take this one.” The man said firmly while still being polite. “He’ll be perfect for my purposes.”

Coins were exchanged, papers were signed and Boy was leaving his merchant and the slave stall behind him. In front of him walked his twenty-third customer, his new master.

His master walked through the city, the capital of Xerxes if Boy heard right. Letting his gaze drift as he followed, Boy couldn’t help but admire its beauty. The old merchant had stored them in the building behind the stall. It had been surprisingly roomy and clean given all the slaves stored but there were barely any windows or natural light. Coming out on market day wasn’t much better. It had always been too hot and they were all expected to stand straight and tall, leaving him nothing to look at besides sun-bleached walls.

Now though, the world opened up. Everything was so much livelier despite the dying day, brighter despite the setting sun. People of all ages were hurrying home. Some were dusty and weary from working a long day in the fields. Others were more finely dressed and leisurely wondered. Stalls were closing, people were all saying goodbyes and see you agains. Every person had their own life, a story to tell that intersected with everyone else’s.

Boy felt very small.

“City a little overwhelming for you?” his master asked. His paced had slowed, allowing Boy to keep up. He stayed two steps behind him though.

“…a bit.” Boy said hesitantly. He knew masters weren’t supposed to talk to slaves like this. It was weird.

“Yeah, I doubt you ever saw much back there." His master said, strides turning into much more measured steps. Boy tried pulling back but every time he slowed down so did his master. They were almost walking side by side now. "There's no need to be shy. Meekness doesn't suit you."

He said it so confidently, as if his master of every outburst, of every time he lost his temper.

Boy looked into his eyes, bright ageless gold that offered the secrets of this nation. "Who..." Boy started then stopped. That wasn't the right question. "What are you?"

His master's mouth split into a wide toothy grin. "I am an Ideal. A ship on the sea of time." He said. With every declaration he seemed to grow larger. "I am the land and sky. I am the people and most importantly...I am part of you and you..." He placed a hand on Boy's head, gently ruffling his hair. "...will be someone great."

The days after that moment blurred in Boy's memory. It was an indecipherable flurry of images and emotions he couldn't even begin to understand. The next clearest thing he could remember was falling into the possession of a court alchemist, Trithemius. Boy became Number 23. His twenty-third customer, the man who claimed to be an Ideal, faded from his mind.

* * *

_Shatter it._

Who was that?

_Please, shatter it._

He knew that voice but from where?

_Shatter it, please!_

Number 23 was in his master's study. He didn't remember how he got there, why...oh, a broom. He was holding a broom. So he was supposed to be cleaning, right?

_No! Break it! Shatter it!_

"Shut up!" 23 growled. The voice was giving him a headache.

The voice faded away, like he and the other slaves would after being scolded by their master. It was still there but it made itself unoticable, lingering in the corner of his mind.

Left to the silence of his own thoughts, 23 began cleaning. Despite being one of the used rooms in the house, the study gathered dust the quickest. 23 blamed it on all the weird bottles and flasks lying around. He could only sweep the floor since his master had forbidden any slave from touching any of his research. The dusty bottles had to be the reason the room got dirty so quickly. Dust attracts dust afterall.

"Hello there."

The voice was back. Damn, if only it had kept quiet for just a bit longer. Working with noise always made his chores harder. He could yell at it to shut up again but that would just be a waste of energy.

_There it is! Break it!_

23 gripped his forehead, great now the voice in his head ...wait. That wasn't the first voice?

"Hey, you! Can't you hear me?"

He stopped. There was someone else here.

"Over here!"

Though the study was cluttered, here wasn't many places to hide. He took a step towards the second voice, squeakier and clearer that the first.

"Yes, down here." Down where? "On the bench."

A...black cloud in a flask…

_There it is! Break it! Shatter it! Get rid of it!_

The first voice returned at full force, pounding at his head like a wooden spoon on a steel pan. His grip on the broom tighten. His arms urging him to swat at the flask, break and kill whatever was in it.

"Oh, you show no fear." The flask said, clearly amused. "I like that."

23 leaned on the broom shaft. The thing in the flask was strange but not dangerous. He didn't need to break it. Besides, what's the worse a speck in a glass bottle could do to him?

* * *

Hohenhiem would have completely missed him, should have completely missed him. His memories before that fateful encounter with the Homunculus had blurred, the days as number 23 were distant and those from when he didn’t even have a number were as good as lost. The past had been slipping away, leaving him with a driving hope for the future.

Then he saw that man again.

He was dressed like any of the other nobles in the king’s court, except without any house seals or ornaments. Customer twenty-three, not looking a day older since he had purchased that slave boy all those years ago.

Despite that man being on the other side of the court, despite all the other people between them, his eyes locked onto Hohenhiem’s. He felt something crawling down his spine.

Foreboding. Anticipation. Fear.

And then it was gone. The man was lost in the crowds of the court yard.


	4. Observations (unfinished)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 28/12/2020: the Remembrance sequel that was never finished. It was about Al adjusting to Ed also being Amestris and learning to get along with Xerxes but wasn't the note taking type then so can't remember where else this was supposed to go.

Whenever a new species, whether it was plant, animal, people or something else entirely, was discovered, a scientist would observe it. To see its habits and practices, how it interacts with those around it, what its place is in its natural habitat. Is it something that is feared by those around it, or is it trusted? If it were to disappear, what would happen to those that surround it? How did it react to change and how well did it adapt? How did it see those who surround, were they friends or foes? What did it look like and how did it eat, sleep and move?

This is what Alphonse did as he observed a ‘new’ type of being known as ‘embodiments’.

The first member of this new species he observed was someone he was very familiar with: his brother, Edward Elric. There wasn’t much difference between Edward, embodiment of Amestris and Edward the human. Both had golden hair and eyes (just like him) and were slightly shorter than average but slowly gaining height. Ed still hated milk and threw tantrums whenever his lack of height was mentioned. His hair remained long and braided and he still wore the same red coat the Flamel. He still got yelled at by Winry whenever he damaged his automail and slept twice as much as any normal person. Hospitals and needles were still the bane of his existence and his sense of organization would still be classed as ‘(not so) controlled chaos’. He still called Alphonse brother.

The way Ed acted was the same but it the way he _interacted_ had changed.

There were less short jokes and insults between him and Mustang and more on how to restore Parliament to power and improve the country. He took his title as a major and Sate Alchemist more seriously and began to ingrain himself into politics, specifically international partnerships. He was no longer socially awkward and no longer isolated himself. Amestris laughed and joked with the other soldiers during parties and social gathering unlike before when he was Ed, where he would seclude himself to a corner or steal away to the library. When walking down the street, Amestris would get caught up talking to people passing by, having animated conversations with them as if he had known them their entire lives. This had caused him to be late to his meeting. He had still been late when he was Ed, but that was because he had slept in and had to get from wherever he was staying, generally the hospital, to Central Command in less than five minutes.

Even though he still preferred the company of a few close friends and family rather than large crowds, Amestris had social skills that Ed never had. Al blamed himself for the social skills that his older brother never had the chance to develop because when he was supposed to be outside and interacting with other people his age, Ed had locked himself up in the library with the company of aging paper and fading ink, just to find a way to get their bodies, more specifically Al’s body, back from Truth. This had left him socially stunted and unsure how to interact around new people, yet Ed had ‘magically’ gained the social skills that he had been deprived of soon after he ‘remembered’ being Amestris. Ed was still the same when he became Amestris but he was also very different.

Al could no longer look directly into his brother’s eyes.

The next ‘embodiment’ observed by Alphonse was the man who claimed to be the fallen nation of Xerxes. Physically, he could past as another brother, supporting his claim that he was Amestris’s older brother. This could be possible historically as before the country disappeared, Xerxes had been extremely supportive of the city-state that would later grow to become Amestris. In fact, in several Xingese texts, Amestris had been referred to as ‘Little Xerxes’.

The former nation looked about Mustang’s age and shared the same world-weary gaze as the soldier. Al and the others that had seen Ed ‘wake up’ believed that he was a homunculus, as the man had said that he only existed because of the Philosopher’s Stone of the people of Xerxes, but he acted so… human, in a way that no homunculus could ever mimic or fake, that the idea had been scrapped.

Xerxes always went straight to the administration desk and signed in as a visitor whenever he came to Central Command, even when it wasn’t necessary. He never flaunted the fact that he was a ‘brother’ of the ‘People’s Alchemist’ and only mentioned his familial connection only when he was asked if he was related to Ed and Al.

In contrast to Amestris, Xerxes was more mild and spent most his time casually talking to other soldiers, but only if it didn’t interrupt their work. He had a love for philosophy and was constantly pondering the questions of life when he wasn’t lazing around. Xerxes was quiet and stayed out everyone’s way. He was knowledgeable and was always available to help Amestris adjust to his duties as a nation.

But Al disliked him. He had attempted to kill his brother (he _did_ kill his brother) and, even though Ed was perfectly fine, wasn’t punished in any way. Xerxes attempted to steal away his last living relative (which had partially succeeded) and Al refused to accept him into his family. While he had befriended murderers and serial-killers, Al found it nearly impossible to forgive the man that had harmed his brother. Al never stayed in the same room as him; he could only suppress his urge to punch Xerxes in the face for so long.


End file.
